


Concupiscent

by Ribald



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alcohol, Drunken Kissing, F/M, Fanalis, French Kissing, Heterosexuality, Jealousy, Kissing, Masmor, Romance, This ship needs some loving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 06:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2338262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ribald/pseuds/Ribald
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He wasn't that drunk when he kissed her. But it'd be best if she just keeps thinking that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's virtually nothing of this ship on this fandom and it's one of my favorites from Magi! The audacity!

**Concupiscent**  
 _Lusty, passionate; typically used in a sexual sense.  
_ _(kon-kuh-piss-shent)_

* * *

Jealousy. Such a distasteful emotion. An emotion he'd thought impossible for him to feel. Yet why was it so suffocating? So deeply rooted in his being that it choked off all sense of logic in his mind. It was a thick emotion that tasted of bitter syrup, filling his pallet to the point of intoxication. It bound him. It weighed him down. His squared shoulders stiffened in disdain as he watched crowds of ogling men flock about the stage. It took all the discipline drilled into his head to keep him from storming onto the stage and dragging the object of their lusts away from such ravenous eyes.

A quiet calm settled on his features like a persistent fog. Yet occasional glimpses of a harsher light would cut through the density. Watching the dancers on stage spin and twirl, shaking their hips from side to side, and hearing the hoots of horny men was not good for his heart. He needed to take his mind off of this somehow. For the longest time he'd been immovable despite goading of drunken allies and flirtatious women.

Just a glass of wine, they said.  
A little alcohol won't hurt, they said.  
It is a festival after all, they said.

He finally went along with it.

The chatter silenced. The lights faded. The music died. The blazing bonfires, reduced to smoldering embers. The party was over and the people had begun taking their leave. A few drunks lay strewn across tables, chairs, and the ground. Someone would see to them sooner or later. Normally he would help out, but another held his attention captive.

Just across the way, a girl of red and white stood alone at the edge of the silver lined sea. A pale moon hung overhead, its ghostly rays illuminating the silk that slipped across the girl's threadbare skin, contrasting the crimson locks that trailed ever so gently in the salted breeze.

 _Beautiful_.

She was only a few meters away. Her, at the edge of the sea. Him, at the edge of the concrete sidewalk. If he so much as took a few steps forward, he'd only need to reach out his hands and she would be in his arms. Where she should be. Just a few steps. Just one stretch. Just one-

"Masrur...san? What… what are you doing?"

Masrur shuddered back to reality. Glancing down, his eyes widened a fraction. She was standing right in front of him, pressed up against his chest with a flustered look etched across her features. Those rubied orbs stared back at him in confusion. He faltered. Why… why was she here?

The man's gaze trailed lower. Then, fixed on the arms that were wrapped about her doll-like waist.

His arms.

"...Nothing, Morgiana." Masrur finally responded after an agonizingly awkward pause, releasing Morgiana from the safety of his arms. Damn it. He'd only been thinking about wanting to do that. He hadn't actually meant for his body to move on its own accord. In that moment, he'd allowed his baser instincts control of his body, blinding his mind for the split second it took him to reach her side. Though, he had to admit, he didn't mind this closeness. Watching her from afar did not do her beauty justice as being up close did. She was gorgeous.

Maybe too gorgeous.

Wordlessly, he reached up to her head and slipped off the golden headdress that adorned her tresses with a touch that did not match his large, burly hands. It then fell to the floor. The girl flinched, but didn't pull away. Instead, cocked her head to the side in confusion. It was strange. He was being strange.

"It doesn't suit you."

 _Lies_.

It suited her beautifully. In fact, he would have loved it if she wore her festival apparel all the time. She was a sight to behold, however, her bare skin attracted far more attention than he'd like. In the farthest recesses of his heart, he wished to monopolize her mind, body, and soul. She was for his eyes alone. She belonged to him and he would be hers if she wished it so.

Morgiana, initially taken aback by his actions, frowned curtly. Next, puffed her cheeks to mumble an upset, "I see."

Too cute.

"Stop that…"

Whether it was to tell her to stop being cute or to stop the hand that reached out to cup her chin and bring her face to his, he wasn't sure. Either way, she did stop and so did he -a little too late.

Their lips brushed together for a second. She froze. He paused.

What the hell was he doing?  
Ah, to hell with it.

Whiting out his thoughts, he pushed forward, lips molding to catch hers. Those petite, supple lips. He wanted a taste and gently gnawed on her lower lip. Sweet. Oh so sweet. He wanted more. Any and all logic that objected to his body's actions were quickly drowned out by the gentle break of waves and the raucous thumps of his heart.

Sliding his left hand about her waist, Masrur drew the girl close. The sand sifted beneath barefeet, marking the ground with their presence. He wanted more. He wanted to hold her more. He wanted to taste her more.

More.  
More.  
More.

"M-Masrur-san!"

Morgiana jerked her head back to break the kiss, hands pushing against his chest to create space between the two. Her breaths were ragged, hot, and heavy, tickling his features with each huff. Her cheeks flushed, mimicking the color of her hair. The only thing that connected the two was a string of saliva, which she quickly wiped from her open mouth. Her golden gaze averted to the side, unable to look up at him.

She was as beautiful as he was dead.

Dead. He was dead and at a complete loss of words. Of course she had the common sense to pull away. Granted, those tempting, kissable lips were calling his name, but he'd gone too far. He'd allowed his inhibitions control in that one moment. He couldn't formulate a sentence. Not even a word of explanation or apology for his actions. He was dead and that kiss had dug his grave. The ticking seconds only buried him deeper.

"Y-you're drunk, aren't you?"  
Her voice cut through the silence, an octave higher than usual.

"...yes..."  
His, low, slow, and as quiet as ever.

"I... I see." The smell and bitter aftertaste of alcohol had left an imprint on her lips. Yes, he was drunk. There was no other explanation for the kiss. He just wasn't thinking straight. That's right. There was no other reason besides that and there was no point to further address the situation. Still, within that moment, the line between master and student had been blurred and crossed with one careless kiss.

"I'll...I'll be taking my leave now, Masrur-san." Slipping out of his loosened grasp, she bowed, turned heel, and disappeared into the night with a flash of red.

Masrur stood, rooted to the spot. All he could do was watch her with longing and regret as she faded from view. Once out of sight, he let out an aggravated groan and buried his face in the palm of his hand. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"Blew it, din't ya?"

Masrur didn't even need to turn to know who was standing beside him. Sharrkan. A very drunk Sharrkan.

The Fanalis rolled his eyes and chose to ignore his ally. That didn't perturb the other. Instead, he continued to hassle his friend. "An' aye tho't ya said ya din't think 'bout 'er like tha'. Liiiiiaaaaar." His voice slurred and his words made little sense. But Masrur understood enough.

There was neither protest nor attempt to refute that statement. Instead, Masrur turned to his senior, slung the man over his shoulder like a cursing sack of potatoes, and proceeded to carry goods friend back to the castle.

Yeah, he hadn't thought of her like 'that' when they first met. But over time, those complacent familial feelings had morphed into smoldering emotions of love.

Yeah, he blew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you could spare a little bit of your time, a comment would be great so I know what people think of my writing. :)


	2. Second Kiss

Morgiana couldn’t look at Masrur the same way again.

After that drunken kiss at the beach, Morgiana’s gaze never rose farther than his lips. Her eyes would linger at that spot for a few seconds, mind reeling to recall the clash of lips. Then, at break neck speeds, her head would snap in the opposite direction. Even though she attempted to dismiss the kiss as being nothing more than an action done on a whim, it was impossible. Whether or not he remembered, she did. Thoughtlessly, her fingers would trace the indents of her lips, recalling how tender he was before ravaging her open mouth. How gentle his embrace had been before he drew her right up to his chest in a desperate frenzy. How warm and sweet his lips had been before a hot tongue passed between her teeth.

The girl shuddered back to reality, goosebumps dotting her skin and red rising to rosy cheeks. It unnerved her. Not that she was disgusted by his actions, rather, by her own. Due to their closeness, she could tell that Masrur was drunk. With their faces drawing closer, she didn’t push him away when she could have --even when seconds passed after the initial kiss. She had allowed him to continue.

Morgiana didn’t push him away because she hated it. She was embarrassed. After all, she’d spotted Sharkkan watching them from afar.

A week passed since that day and she'd been avoiding both of them ever since.  She even had Yamraiha and Alibaba make up excuses as to why she couldn't train with Masrur for that week. All she had to do after that was avoid her mentor like the plague. Not that it was very hard to do considering that they both lived in a palace.  Granted, they would see each other from across the courtyard from time to time --which was when she realized she could no longer look him in the eyes-- they never stood close enough to each other to strike up a conversation. Not like he'd ever gone out of his way to talk to her anyway. Maybe even if he did remember, Masrur didn't care about the kiss.

Something about that thought disturbed her.

Anyhow, life rolled on as per usual. That was, until Jafar told her that Masrur had scheduled a time to train with her that morning at around eight.

 

* * *

 

It just turned seven in the afternoon.

Morgiana felt terrible. She really did. Normally, she'd be at their training sessions a half hour earlier to warm up --only to find out that Masrur had been training for the past hour. Today on the other hand, she couldn't bring herself to go. Even though her mind told her to move, her feet would take her in the opposite direction at full speed. How pathetic! Masrur had taken the time to train her and yet she wasn’t even going to show up. She didn’t even have an excuse. Not that she had the right to make any-

“Ah, Morgiana-chan, have you seen Masrur?”

Morgiana choked on her thoughts. Eyes casting to the side guilty, she clutched her hands tightly behind her back in embarrassment as she stuttered out, “n-no I haven’t, Sharrkan-san.” Swallowing hard, she crossed her fingers as she silently prayed that he didn’t know that she and Masrur were supposed to have trained that morning.

“Eeeh, really? And we were supposed to go drinking together...” Sharrkan mused, scratching the back of his tilted head. “I thought you two were supposed to train together this morn-- M-Morgiana-chan!”

The startled Fanalis raised her foot from a mini crater. “Ah…” She did not mean to do that. It was a nervous twitch. It happens. “A-a-ah, I-I’ll go find him for you!” Spinning around on the balls of her heels, she sped off in a flash of red and white. Hand cupped over her lips, her brows furrowed in worry. Surely he wouldn’t be at the training area. It’s been hours. There’s no way he’s still waiting for her there. If he was there, she’d only feel worse about standing him up. _‘No way,’_ she thought, shaking her head in disbelief. _‘There’s no way he’s there...’_

Life loved proving her wrong.

Wheeling around a corner, Morgiana’s eyes fixed on a familiar sight of red, white, and tan. He was there. Laid out under a tree was the sleeping Fanalis. His skin, shimmering from a sheen of sweat, caused Morgiana’s breath to hitch in her throat. The mere sight of his bare chest, which hadn’t bothered her till recently, caused her cheeks to flush crimson. Those taut muscles of his lowered and raised gently with each light breath he took. It was as if he were a living statue, carved to fit the height of human perfection. Still, she would have to awaken this statue amd apologize.

“M-Masrur-san?” Morgiana squeaked, stepping towards him.

No response.

She repeated his name, inching closer. Still no response. This  process repeated several more times till she found herself kneeling by his side, calling out to him.

 _‘He’s… a really heavy sleeper...’_ was her impression as she peered down at him. Those chiseled features of his were set with a worried frown as always, brows knitted together as if he were thinking too hard. If he didn’t wake up soon, those wrinkles might become permanent.

So, she poked him between the eyes. Then, pushed the wrinkle upwards, stifling a giggle with her other hand.

He didn’t even stir.

Maybe if she pinched his nose or something, he’d wake up.

His lips curled downwards and she faltered. It was those lips again. Every time she saw him, her eyes would eventually be drawn to them. It was frustrating, really. To think one drunken kiss had intoxicated her to this point.

Morgiana’s fingers traced his cheek, caressing the side of his face. Then, brought a dainty finger to brush against the curve of his lips. Ever so gently she focused on memorizing his sleeping face, memorizing every last line that marked his skin.

It was then when she realized: Masrur was really handsome.

The air hung still, temperature rising several degrees. The songs of crickets muffled in the background, replaced by the erratic heart that rang in her ears. If that didn’t wake him up, she didn’t know what would.

They were alone.

He was fast asleep and showed no signs of waking. He was right there. He was so close. So temptingly close. She only wanted to lean down. Get a little closer. That’s all. There’s nothing wrong with shortening the distance between the two. Nothing wrong in the slightest. Even if she were to give him a little kiss --without any feelings associated to it whatsoever-- he wouldn’t wake up. She was absolutely sure about that.

As she bent her head to his, feet would turn to inches and the seconds passed like eternities.

Three inches.  
Two inches.  
One-

 “Mmph-!”

Morgiana’s scarlet eyes flew open in alarm as her head jerked forward roughly. While she was so focused on Masrur’s lips, a hand had snaked its way behind her head, entangling itself with her hair as it dragged her down. Impatient lips crashed against her own, tongue darting between her teeth to explore every unknown crevice that was hers. Something warm and slick rolled over her tongue, massaging it with great fervor, eliciting a lewd moan from the back of her throat.

Just as her eyes began to shut, they fluttered wide open once more, realizing that she’d made such a vulgar noise. Her entire body was trembling against his touch. From her knees, she slipped into a seated position, legs giving out from under her as Masrur began to sit up. Not once did he break the kiss. Instead, he pushed further and deeper into her till there was nothing left between them.

Eventually, he pulled away --with extreme reluctance.

The young girl sat in stunned silence, gasping for breath as she gaped at Masrur in disbelief. As always, his expression was unreadable. Though, his breathing was heavier than usual.

Drawing a shaky breath, Morgiana began to stammer, “M-Masrur-san… a-are you dr-drunk-”

“...No,” was his answer, coupled with a heavy sigh.

She, of course, knew that was true. If he was drunk, she could have easily tasted the alcohol on his tongue when it-- Morgiana’s features flushed as she averted her gaze to the floor.

“Th-then why-”  
“You were avoiding me.”

Her jaw slackened. Was he being serious right now? “N-no I wa- Th-that is…” Morgiana’s eyes shifted guiltily as her fingers laced together behind her back. She couldn’t lie to his face, but it was hard to be honest  with him in this situation. After much hesitation, in quieter voice, she finally mumbled, “okay… maybe I was…” So he had noticed. How embarrassing. But still, “c-could you blame me?” she snapped, finally raising her face to meet his eyes with an intense glower. It was his fault for making her this way. If he hadn’t kissed her on the beach, or just now, her world wouldn’t have been turned upside down.

He stared back at her, gaze never faltering. Those impassioned eyes of his seemed to drill their way into her soul. It was almost as if he were planning the best method of attack. In the end, he shook his head in response to her question. Instead of apologizing, however, he leaned forward. She shut her eyes, bracing herself for another kiss… that never came.

“Be mine.”

She blinked, staring up at him absolutely bewildered. “Excuse me?” She couldn’t have heard him right. He must have said something else. Baffled, Morgiana rubbing a hand against the side of her temple. She must be hallucinating or something. She could have sworn… but there was no way Masrur would have said-

“Be mine.”

She faltered. He said it. He _actually_ said it. _Again_. Now what could she do? Running didn’t seem to be an option since his hands had settled themselves on her hips. Plus, it’s not as if she _hated_ him or what he did. Nevertheless, she didn’t know if she loved him enough to ‘be his’. The whole concept of it all was just so foreign to her. Still, she knew that there wasn’t any way out of this except by giving him a straight answer.

“I… I don’t know.”  
Or an uncertain one.

Masrur’s lips curled downwards slightly more than usual as his hands fell from her waist. His gaze lowered from her eyes by a fraction, breaking contact, as his shoulders slackened. He looked like a kicked puppy.

It killed her.

“A-alright- I will… just, please don’t look like that,” she pleaded, reaching out to cup the side of his face. Even though the changes in his expression would have gone unnoticed by the common eyes, she saw the dejected look in his eyes.

She never wanted to see him look so hurt ever again.

In an instant, the knots of tension that wracked Masrur’s body loosened and a faint sigh of relief escaped his lips. His hand reached up to hold the hand she’d placed on his cheek. Leaning into it for a moment, he savored the moment of silent understanding between them. Wordlessly, the giant leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers. It was as if he couldn’t believe what he had heard. It was as if that by touching her, it would solidify this dream as reality.

He was happy.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With this, the story’s complete! Thank you for reading along. I have a 3-part(?), MasMor story in the works, but I must warn you. It is very, very, very risque. Set in modern times, reincarnation, references to this fic, overlapping ships, one-sided yaoi, MasMor as siblings, and general inappropriateness… you know, things that will make me live up to my username. Regardless, I’d love to hear from you and what you think of a much edgier MasMor fic.
> 
> Also, this fic has taught a really bad lesson that I would quickly like to clarify. Morgiana is the type to blame herself for what she can’t control, which is what I wanted to convey in this fic (by writing how she was disgusted with herself rather than Masrur). That is not okay. If someone were to grab you out of nowhere and kiss you, it is in no way your fault even if the attacker (in this case Masrur) sees you as being tempting because of what you wear (women should be allowed to wear what they want and men should learn how to keep it in their pants). I love this ship to death, but I also wanted to show that no matter how ‘romantic/beautiful/cute/etc.’ the scene was played out, the kiss was forced onto her (which is sexual assault) and it should not be seen in a good light! So there’s the hidden message from this fic.


End file.
